AN: redone. Enjoy.

Title: Symptoms of a downfall CH.4

Pairing: StarkxRukia

Geez…what was wrong with this girl? Stark thought with more than the usual annoyance. He was a calm guy normally, things just slid off him whereas with others like the Court Bailiff Jeagerjaques…everything just seemed to piss him off.

I can handle this—I can handle this—I can handle a teenage girl who thinks the world beneath her! He knocked on the beige bathroom door, twisting the glass knob finally. And—confiscates the single bathroom in my apartment! "I'm coming in," he warned, pushing against the jamb. A cloud of steam met his face with a warm whoosh of heat. His eyes flickered past the wide step pedestal sink, the clothing he had been forced to buy, supplementing her old wardrobe, tossed carelessly on the floor and then the pale dripping face staring out from the parted curtain in the shower stall in the corner.

"GET OUT, PERVERT!!!!!!!!"

"O-kay!" he ducked out fast, as something whistled with near accuracy toward his head. Was that my Old Spice shampoo?! He flinched hearing a thud hit the other side of the door. Dammit. She's going to make us both late. Running both hands through his longish hair, Stark sat on the top step, staring down into the hallway below gloomily.

Four-no-five days, she had been residing with him and everyday…it was the same. Stark himself liked to sleep in, getting up twenty minutes precisely before having to leave for the office. Take a quick shower; stop in at Lilynette's Café for a quick bite and then…but oh no…every morning exactly at the time when his footstep sounded on the bottom step, above he'd hear Rukia's light feet cross the floor and the squeak of hinges as the bathroom closed.

Her shower lasted fifteen minutes on a good day, on a bad well…

He glanced at his watch and stood up. No shower for him today, at least not until after he came back. Hopefully Ms. Tu Oderschvank wouldn't notice.

~~~*~~~

"Bad day?"

"Huh? Oh…we had a test." Rukia said perfunctorily, letting the door slam shut behind her. Stark gave his attention back to the paperwork spilling out of his briefcase. He wouldn't ask anymore. He heard the pounding of the steps mounted two at a time, the second rattle and slam of a door upstairs then a few moments later she came back down. The light in the Kitchenette was flicked on and she walked into the living room, an apple in hand.

Stark shifted aside his leather case as she perched on the end cushion, crossing her legs swiftly; her arm draped over her knee. "How's work?" she asked, drawing his eyebrows together in surprise. "I didn't think you were much interested in what I do day after day," he couldn't help saying before realizing how it sounded.

Thankfully Rukia didn't seem to take immediate offense.

"I don't usually. But I…"

He was amused to see a tiny tint of pink to her cheeks.

"I just thought I should ask. It's only polite after all." Her eyes were narrowed, glaring, as if daring him to contradict her. Stark shuffled his papers, folding his hands over them on his lap. "It is nice of you to ask. I met today with a new client, a Ms. Tu Oderschvank-formerly-Mrs. Jiruga. She's bringing a case against her ex husband, Nnoitora, for damages incurred during their brief marriage. Apparently Mr. Jiruga has a violent temper and used to—I believe she used the term—rampage and scare the daylights out of her. She says that fright weakened her heart and caused all kinds of medical conditions. She's even gone to a Doctor and gotten his word for it."

Her apple quite forgotten, dangled from her fingers by the stem, "and what do you think? Does she have a case?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly, "Perhaps. It doesn't matter so much what I think. If I am hired to represent someone in Court and argue their case to the best of my ability…well that's what I'm paid for. Never mind if I think she's silly or anything. Not that I do," he said hastily seeing the girl across from him start to smile.

Rukia nodded and lifted the apple to her mouth, "that's a safe position to take. Only doing it for the money." Stark swallowed with difficulty watching the red fruit be kissed by her lips. Don't stare. She bit into it with a crisp snapping sound, breaking off a small bite and chewing it slowly. Look away! His eyes refused to obey the warning rerunning around his mind.

A tiny droplet of juice ran down the corner of her lip.

She swallowed the apple; he was secretly relieved.

Her tongue flicked out and licked away the stray stickiness.

Crap. He flew up from the sofa, mentally cursing his male body. He felt her look at him curiously; completely oblivious to what she was doing to him. It's only me.

"Is something wrong, Stark?"

He swiftly turned on his heel, running a hand through his hair nonchalantly, "N-no. I—I just remembered I hadn't taken a shower. I'll go do that now." Good. His voice didn't shake. He took a few steps toward the Kitchen and the hallway beyond, saying over his shoulder, "order whatever you'd like for dinner. There's cash in the crock near the—"

"Didn't you already take a shower?" she sounded slightly suspicious.

"No. Because you were hogging the bathroom—"

"Your hair is still damp." She pointed out the obvious.

Stark cursed her intellect.

~*~

Note: rewritten because I wanted some time to have elapsed between chapters 3 and 4. Not much happened still, except Stark finding himself in a situation. Pardon the shortness but I will try to update a lot sooner than the gap between the last ones. Thanks for reading and—no flames—please review. :)